Sherlolly-Reunion after Sherlocks Fall
by Doctor Susan Holmes
Summary: I just watched "The Empty Hearse" and this scene is set when Sherlock shows himself to everyone to say he's back. We only see Molly going to her locker to find him in the reflection of her mirror. I think this is not nearly enough of what they could've shown and my Sherlolly feelings needed to be expressed so here is what I think/wish should have happened between them.
1. Reunion

Before reading: Sorry for any mistakes concerning grammar or spelling I'm German and still have to learn a few things! Would be delighted if you could mention any mistakes in the comments so that I can change and learn from them! Thank you for reading this and I hope you're not disappointed!

Molly had just finished her work and was going to her locker to change and finally go home. She was so deep in thoughts, that she didn't notice the tall man with the black coat and dark-brown curls standing in the corner of the room. Since Sherlock had "died" (or rather gone abroad, for she knew the truth of what had happened) she had thought a lot due to the lack of someone to talk to. Sherlock had always been the one to talk to her (or more likely the other way around) when she was at work. He had also been one of the few or only people to frequently work together with a pathologist like her. Well, there also was Greg, but he only had come by some day or another then and he wasn't Sherlock to be honest. Since Sherlock's death he had visited her more often although there was no case to work on and she had found that strange but had not really dwelt on it. John had also visited her more often since that day, because for a long time she had been the only one he could talk to and confide into. It had broken her heart to see him this shattered and in so much pain and she had often wanted to tell him the truth but Mycroft and Sherlock had both made her promise to keep the secret. She had complained at first but Sherlock had insisted upon it and there was simply nothing she could deny him... Therefore she had lied to everyone not involved in the conspiracy and it had mentally drained her. For months she had neither heard from Sherlock nor Mycroft and eventually the pretension seemed more real to her than fake and made her wonder if Sherlock hadn't really died that day and she had just hallucinated an excuse to not have to grief.

But today was different. She somehow felt that things were going to change and was reminded again that it really did happen. Greg hadn't visited her today. John hadn't called like he usually did to ask how her day had been and if she would like to meet him. And since recently also Mary, his going-to-be-wife (at least according to what he had told and asked her for help about the other day). Mary was a nice match for him and really had made John move on and she also had become a good friend of hers. Molly guessed it was the perfect time – or the best there could possibly be – to finally tell them the truth. Of what she had heard of Adams rumors and the research she had done herself Sherlock would soon be here anyway. It was better to take precautions now instead of Sherlock, with no sense for human emotion, letting his best friend know that he was still alive. She could imagine the chaos erupting of it too vividly...

She opened her locker ready to put in her overall when she noticed a reflection in the mirror that made her heart drop dead. There standing right behind her was Sherlock! She whirled around and faced him. All kinds of emotion were filling her body. There was shock, disbelief, anger but most of all joy. She hadn't known how much she had missed him until now and it put a smile on her face without her being able to prevent it. And he seriously smiled back! His face was the most gorgeous she had seen in a long time, his eyes beamed and she nearly lost her footage. Had she been in one of those tight Renaissance dresses she would have certainly fainted from the lack of oxygen due to her inability to breath properly. The shock of seeing him again after a year lasted only seconds and Molly recovered soon. She looked him dead in the eye (having to restrain herself not to laugh about the visible shock on Sherlock's face) and chastised him:

"How dare you walk in here like that! First of all you scared me to death by doing so and secondly you smile at me like nothing happened and you weren't gone for two years!", Molly scoffed and had to breath in deeply to remain calm.

Sherlock wanted to say something but she silenced him with one look and her drawn index finger.

"No, don't say anything! Because nothing you say will in any way stop me from telling you what's on my mind right now! Let me guess, I'm not the first one you visited?", she looked at him with drawn-up eyebrows.

He merely shook his head and frowned not understanding what was happening at all, but he could imagine that although Molly knew all along he was alive she would react similar to the way John had done upon seeing him: "Well, of course I saw Mycroft. He was the one commanding me back otherwise I'd still be gone..."

"What?", incredulity was plainly written on Molly's face, "I knew from Mycroft that you had things to do, concerning Moriarty's sidekicks. That you were gone more than a year was already rough, but doing this even longer? Do you have any idea what you have caused? Concerning John?", she quickly added.

"I... know...", he looked to the ground and then back to her, "I met him yesterday... told him I was back."

"You did what?"

"I told him I was..."

"I got that Sherlock, I'm just shocked... Unbelievable! I guess that's why there's a cut at your mouth and you look so wrecked. How did you approach him? What did you tell him about how you've done it, and more importantly why he couldn't know? He punched you didn't he? Sherlock...?"

Sherlock was taken aback again by how much Molly had changed and how good she had become in reading him. Or she had just worked on her deduction skills in the last two years. It was not that far-fetched a thought taking into consideration that Scotland Yard and Lestrade had lost their best Consulting Detective and needed a new one. He would have chosen Molly, too. But he dismissed that train of thoughts for now and concentrated on the topic at hand again.

"Honestly, I wanted to tell him about all the thirteen possibilities we had calculated and what we finally decided on doing but he wasn't even interested! And I think I spoiled a thing or two concerning him and this woman... There was a ring on the table and considering the expensive restaurant they were dining in I say he was about to propose to her, of course such casualties could wait and I decided to talk to him right then after disguising myself before that... I think it was for my own amusement... or maybe to lighten the atmosphere in general for you are right with telling him I was still alive being a delicate topic, indeed. It did take me three goes and several punches to even get to the part where I asked him to be my partner again and he said no, well not explicitly so, but I guess a punch in the face is a clear enough answer... Can you believe that? I come back from the dead, sort of, and he doesn't want me back!"

Molly just stared at him open-mouthed and her eyes nearly falling out of her sockets. She had to take several attempts of opening and closing her mouth before a sound came out of it: "I... I don't know what to say..."

Sherlock stepped closer to her now frowning again, because he had hopped for more of an answer and for her to understand him: "Shall I explain it to you again?"

Molly looked him in the eyes and in that moment she really wanted to slap him across the face. She totally understood John's reaction and now she knew she would have done the same. She bit her lip and pushed the thought aside, because even if she slapped him it would do no good and hadn't she just minutes ago thought about Sherlock being insensitive concerning such topics? Besides he had already got enough punishment from John. That would do.

"Just... Why haven't you come to me first... to maybe ask for a tip how to approach John? Have you at least asked Mycroft before bursting in on John and Mary? And yes that's her name by the way..."

"No, I haven't because I considered myself able to do this on my own. But I think I should have consulted you first... I'm sorry...", Molly looked up. He had done it again. He had apologized. That was enough to make her believe in his sincerity and to calm her down again.

He genuinely looked sorry and his eyes even sad about the outcome of it all. Maybe there was still hope for Sherlock in discovering the one or other feeling or recognition of human emotion after all.

Molly sighed: "I accept your apology, Sherlock! Just promise me you won't do such a thing ever again! Especially not to John!"

"I promise. But what about you? You're still upset and you were it even before I told you about the incident with John. What is it?"

"Nothing, really... And it doesn't really matter either now, does it? I'm just glad that you're back."

"Molly... Have you forgotten what I told you although it was two years ago? You do count and you most certainly matter! You did then and you still do now. I wouldn't have turned to you for advise, now, would I?"

"Who knows? Maybe you just knew I would help you no matter what and it was just something you told me to convince me to help you...", she rattled off the words, stabbing her and him equally.

"Why?" Sherlock was baffled. He never had thought about it this way. His words back then had been most sincere and it had cost him all his strength to even confide in Molly about Moriarty's plan, about his plan and it had taken even more to tell her these two little sentences: _You count Molly. You have always counted._ He had stopped himself before adding _to me._ He had felt it wasn't fair towards her considering what was about to happen and he had to admit he also had feared the words, because they had such a strong meaning to them. Sherlock buried the thought before he could further dwell on it and faced Molly again: " Why would you think that? I meant what I said, Molly and you know that!"

"I do... at least I hope I can. But considering that you left without another word and now just show up without having given me one ounce of information whatsoever over the last years I have to admit that I'm not sure what to think of you Sherlock!"

He watched her standing there before him so drained and exhausted; her deep brown eyes looking up to him like they always had done, now they seemed sad and tired but still so full of... love... Her hair was made into her usual ponytail and her lips were still slightly parted after having spoken this much. There was a feeling in his stomach he couldn't quite put a finger on. Something he oddly enough hadn't really felt before. He felt the need to go to his mind palace, explore this strange feeling although he know there was no door leading to an explanation.

Without thinking his hands suddenly wrapped around her ponytail – one hand holding it, the other one pulling the hair elastic off it. Her hair spilled over his hands and down her back. It was so soft. He never had felt anything like it and made sure to tuck away that feeling of hair on bare skin behind one of his many palace doors. Molly stood still like a statue not daring to move an inch but on the other hand also worried of what Sherlock was doing or had in mind. He grabbed a strand of her hair with each hand and put them over her shoulder, grazing it with his fingers while doing so. He only felt the cotton of her sweater which wasn't as sensational as touching her bare skin would have been... Bare skin? Why bare skin? Cotton. What cotton? Where from? What colour? What intention? His mind was so blank! Denuded of all thoughts he would have had any other time being with another person. It had to be the fact that it was Molly standing in front of him. He knew her to well to have to deduce her. But then again it was Molly who was standing so close to him and it confused him. Everything confused him!

He didn't even know what it all meant and what he was doing, when he already leaned down and brought his lips on hers. He felt her shudder and shortly stiffen – a clear sign of shock as well as of anticipation towards what was just happening. Soon enough this initial shock was overcome and her hands traveled to his head, tightly gripping his hair. It was as much of a sign he needed to know, that she didn't want him to stop and even less to let her go. Anyone who didn't know her might perceive Molly as shy, weak and small, but to Sherlock, he realized now, she had for some time now (more or less since the day he decided to openly talk to her) been of the most importance to him (next to John) and she was the strongest, most confident woman he had ever met. She was the one person aside from John that he completely trusted and who counted even though she might not believe it herself. And that was the reason he had kissed her and the reason he didn't feel the need to end it just now. He had even graved this kiss, indeed had longed for it for so long now, but never dared to make a move, because caring was not an advantage and love evolved out of caring too much. And that was, what let him realize it: The strange feeling he had felt, the reason he had talked to Molly and why she had been the second person on his mind to visit? It was all connected and it all lead to one emotion, to one word: Love! It was pure and unconditional love he had never before felt in that way.

He gently, but urgently ended the kiss and firmly looked into Molly's eyes, who was as confused as he was: "I'm sorry! Never mind that..."

He laid the elastic in her hand, turned around and went out of the room without another word. But in his mind he clearly heard Mycroft's words: "_All lives end. All hearts are broken. Caring is not an advantage, Sherlock!"_ Well, it wasn't hard to deduce what love was then...


	2. Investigation

The door fell shut leaving her alone in the locker room. Molly stood there still breathless and shocked from what had just happened, but also beginning to worry. _Never mind that_ he had said to her before leaving. How could she? It had been the best thing that had happened to her so far. Sherlock coming back from the dead, seeking her out to tell her he's back and then kissing her senseless? That was what anybody dreamed of or well what she had dreamed of more than once.

And that made her come back to reality and want to slap herself now. Sherlock was back, yes, but she had sworn to herself not to get attached again, because she had buried her feelings for him, hadn't she? He had been gone two years and she had moved on. **She was engaged now!** What did it tell about her that she still fancied another man, that she had liked him kissing her more than her own fiance and that she had literally wished for this to happen? Molly Hooper was the worst fiancee ever. Which made her wonder why Sherlock hadn't noticed the change... He was always so perceptive of so little things why hadn't he noticed her ring? She had worn it the whole time, when nervous she liked to fidget with it as she had done several times as they had talked and last but not least she had grabbed his dark, silken... hair – Focus! – with it and he must have felt it, mustn't he? Why hadn't he said anything? There hadn't been any ounce of notice as had been the case any other time she had dated someone, which wasn't that often. He clearly must have been out of his mind in the literal sense. The great Sherlock Holmes driven out of his deductive mind by non other than the little, unremarkable Molly Hooper!

That last thought made her smile and head home in greater spirits. Lucky for her Tom wasn't going to be home until late and she could wipe that smile of her face without ruffle or excitement.

After only about an hour at home though she received a massage from Sherlock:

_Please come visit me if convenient – SH_

_P.S. If inconvenient come anyway_

She sighed and at the same time her heart rate quickened. What did he want from her now? Did he want to talk? Did he want to ask her out for a date? Did he maybe want another kiss? All those possibilities were equally unlikely and her mind already knew what her heart denied namely him just wanting help or other trivial things from her. So when she finally got to 221b Baker Street Mrs. Hudson invited her in with a kind but conspicuous smile and as she went up the stairs the door to Sherlock's flat stood already open. Molly went straight in finding him standing at the window with the back to her.

"You wanted to see me?" she asked uncertainly, not sure how to approach him after what had happened.

Sherlock only hesitated a second. He would just forget that her earlier encounter had happened, not mentioning it at all, although him inviting her here said more than a thousand words could. John had dumped him and he had needed an assistant and Molly had been the first one on his mind. He was not sure what to think of that fact as he had buried the earlier encounter, the kiss, ... AND would leave it there! Sherlock chided himself for being so stupid. He wouldn't let love rule his head and obscure his senses. Little did he know that Molly already had led to that with no turning back...

"Yes!", he finally turned around, put a smile on his face and approached her, "Molly..."

"Yes?"

"Would you..." , he stopped himself to shortly over think how to ask her all the time staring on the ground and not into her eyes. He sensed it was an awkward situation both of them were in and he didn't know how Molly thought about what had happened. He should have thought about this before calling her to him... She clearly had misunderstood the whole thing and now had made up silly hopes he wouldn't be able to fulfill...

"Would you like to..." he finally looked into her eyes – so beautiful, bright and full of hope.

"Have dinner with you?" – "Solve crimes... with me?"

He had known it all along. Her thoughts had went in the completely opposite direction. But who was to blame her? It was his fault, his stupid fault. He hadn't wanted this to happen. Well the kiss yes, he couldn't deny that, but what followed afterwards. Sherlock just couldn't cope with those human emotions and expectations and seeing his life he didn't wish anyone to be dragged into the danger it held especially not Molly. And wasn't that what caring meant? Protecting the ones you... loved...? Moriarty might be dead, but there were still some of his men around and now this new terrorist group... It just wasn't safe to let anyone into his life except for John who knew the consequences and could deal with threats. So he had to keep a distance between him and Molly, but because he still wanted her around this was the best opportunity to do so.

Molly on the other hand chided herself for her stupidity. Having dinner with her? Why did she always have to be so prompt and thoughtless. As if he would ask her out. Sherlock had other things on his mind she could clearly see that by the pictures on the wall and his thoughtful appearance. Moreover he had clearly told her to forget the ordeal as if it never happened and that said enough about his intentions and thoughts on the topic. Her head had known that all along, but her heart needed to betray her like always and now it made her ache although she didn't have to feel hurt. It was Sherlock and she knew him for being so inconsiderate and ignorant to human emotion. She guessed that was why she liked him so much in the first place. He wasn't like any other man and he certainly was a difficult match. That's why she loved Tom, but also didn't love him. He was kind and amiable, but he was just like any other man – once he had won her heart he stopped there and just went along with it and she on the other hand didn't have to do anything at all except for accepting him into her life. But with Sherlock there was always a fight. A fight for attention and some sort of affection and it was certainly not easy. That was the reason why although she knew better and should have stayed away she agreed to help him, because that was the only thing granting her time together with him. After two years without him she really needed this.

And so she went with him to investigate and it was quite an unique experience. Although he was better than her at such things he didn't judge or criticize her when she dared a try and examined at first the skeleton then the video tapes. She noticed his restlessness and the clear sign that she wasn't John and that he rather wanted him to investigate alongside him, but she didn't tell him so. He didn't blame her for it either and tried to make the best of the situation. There was yet one positive thing the day had proven them: Molly had risen in his esteem so much that he had accepted proposals from her and one look of disapproval had led to him apologizing to the train-loving witness they had visited. Next to the fact that she had had time to intently watch him and he had only noticed it once. She still was the woman standing on the sidelines, silently watching, but he now knew that she was there, he finally noticed her.

When the day was over all to soon and their investigations finished she even got sort of an invitation to eat out with him. But before they could go she gathered all her courage to confront him, because she couldn't let it rest any longer: "Sherlock what was today about?"

He stopped in his tracks to look back up to her, while she still descended the stairs, and said almost matter-of-factly: "Saying thank you!"

"For what?" she asked and felt insecure again. Maybe she shouldn't have asked him after all. But then again maybe he would finally open up and speak to her about what had happened in the morning and today all in all.

"For what you did for me."

His voice got this low rumble to it as he spoke the words and it made her shiver. She quickly pulled herself together and put herself opposite of him to get a little bit of space between them.

"It's okay... It's my pleasure", she simply stated looking on the ground instead of his eyes.

"No", there was an edge to his voice when he said that simple word and it made her look up, "I mean it!"

She mumbled again, unsure what to say to that: "I didn't mean pleasure... I mean... I didn't mind... I wanted to..."

Sherlock stopped her right there telling her: "Moriarty slipped up. He made a mistake. Because the one person he thought didn't matter at all to me was the one person that mattered the most. You made it all possible."

Molly was totally taken aback. Such words out of Sherlock's mouth! It was the closest expression of affection she would ever get from him and it took her breath away so that she couldn't answer him right away. Sherlock took this opportunity to to get back to terrain he was used to before this was getting out of hand again.

"But you can't do this anymore can you?", he knew that he couldn't use Molly anymore the way he had and would have done it two years ago – her crush on him the perfect opportunity to get her to help him. No, he acknowledged her now as a human being, as his friend, as a strong and independent woman.

Molly had to pull herself together with great effort and manged a smile although she wanted to scream and cry. With a weak voice she finally told him: "I've had a lovely day... And I'd love to I just..."

It was just that it was time to move on for he clearly wasn't going to talk about their kiss and how he felt about it any more. It was time for her to finally grow up, leave thoughts of him behind and start acting like the woman, who was soon to be a wife of a loving husband. She had built herself a new life those last two years not to have it ruined by Sherlock just stepping into the picture again. Molly had to admit to herself that Sherlock was and never would be in her reach, that Tom was the one she should dedicate herself to and that everything concerning Sherlock were only far-flung hopes, childish dreams and never going-to-be-real wishes. That's why she now made the decision to never let him in again and wrap her around his finger whenever he needed her.

Sherlock confirmed her internal thoughts by saying: "And congratulations by the way."

Hadn't she known Sherlock better she would have thought he really meant it and just stated it as a matter of fact, but she caught the edge of his voice, the slight tang of emotion to it. He had just recently or only minutes ago noticed the ring and his mind was still processing the information as also what it meant in retrospective concerning their kiss.

Sherlock didn't want to admit it to himself but seeing that ring on Molly's finger made him ache. Of course it was first and foremost a relief. Molly had found someone. She was going to have a normal, happy life and he wouldn't have to think about their kiss any more and had all reason to forget it happened now as it was inappropriate. But he couldn't deny the fact that he felt all kinds of emotion he wouldn't have thought himself possible to feel. There was rage, something he thought was called jealousy and then there was a sort of sadness. He didn't know what to think of this pool of emotions and it made him mad because it clouded his mind. He needed to get it over with and away from Molly as fast as possible or he would explode. But Molly didn't make it any easier when she started talking about him, who he was, how they met what they did in their free time. It only increased the pain, he stoically hid on the surface. Molly herself didn't even know why she told him all this, because she sensed that it bothered him. But never would she have thought of it hurting him. She just thought her rambling about it annoyed him...

"I hope you'll be very happy, Molly Hooper", he told her then, the most difficult words he had ever said, "You deserve it."

At least it was the truth. He really wished her all the best although a part of him wanted it to be him who made her happy. But that wasn't possible and this way he at least knew that she would be happy and safe.

Before he could stop himself he added: "After all not all the men you fall for turn out to be sociopaths... No..." – he had said it to reassure her and himself that she was better off without him and to both include him in the process as being a sociopath but also exclude him again.

She really messed with his mind. In her presence he couldn't think clearly and said all the things he wouldn't normally say and act on pure impulse. As he now did by leaning down and kissing her cheek. He wanted to kiss her lips so badly, but everything he had achieved until now would then have been in vain. Moreover it wasn't fair to Molly. He couldn't just ruin what she had built herself while he was gone. And he had to live with the fact that it hurt, because it was his fault that it did. He quickly straightened again, and left the building before it could get more out of hand as it already had. Moreover fresh air would certainly help get a clear mind again. He guessed that eating Fish &amp; Chips with Molly was out of the question now so he made his way home again, leaving her behind to cope with all the feelings that flooded her on her own. Still not sure what had just happened Molly watched Sherlock vanish in the distance before she went home, too, all the way thinking about it, but coming to no conclusion as to what it all meant for him, for them and for the future.


	3. Miss me?

This scene is set after the season 3 finale and it sort of starts the 4th season. Enjoy reading!

_Miss me? Miss me? Miss me?_

Everywhere. The two words were simply everywhere. You looked out of the window and an advertisement on the wall would read it. You turned on the television and the words would greet you accompanied by Moriarty's face – smiling like the maniac he was. The newspapers were full of it, politicians talked about nothing else and it felt like all the world screamed his name... Moriarty!What did it mean? What was his plan?

Of course it was no imposter having taken Moriarty's identity, because Moriarty wasn't even dead. Sherlock had known it all along. As if Moriarty would kill himself before making sure Sherlock did the same! As if he wouldn't think of him planning an escape and a way to survive! As if he himself wouldn't think of a thousand possibilities and casualties things could go and still have an escape plan himself. Moriarty was his counterpart. He was his other half. But one question remained: How had he done it?

Sherlock sat in his chair, legs crossed, hands triangularly folded under his nose – just his usual thinking posture. Only today he couldn't think properly. His head was as empty as those of the people surrounding him daily and it was maddening. He thought he had told Glen? Gert? ... Anyway... Lestrade something similar once... _What must it be like in those funny little heads of yours? It must be boring!_ He now related to those words on a new level. He sighed and rose from his chair deciding that walking around would maybe help him think better. It couldn't be that difficult. He just had to remember everything that had happened on that roof. What had led them both there, what they had talked about and what came afterwards...

As a consequence of his boredom and utter insanity Moriarty had accomplished it to let the whole nation believe he was innocent and Sherlock was the bad guy, which had lead to him having to die to save his friends (or rather the people he cared about more then he was used to concerning humans) by jumping of said roof. To avoid dying he had thought of several plans to safe himself but not one had primarily involved Moriarty killing _himself_. Only ever killing _him_ had been the plan. Of course after he had done so there was only a limited amount of possibilities left to get off that roof alive and everyone staying out of harm's reach.

He decided on jumping after calling John, because with calling John he activated one special option of saving him – an only for that occasion prepared lorry with a catching and cushion net in it's trailer. In case Moriarty had been still alive Sherlock would have jumped and Moriarty would have assumed it was final only noticing the lorry when it was already to late to change his orders, giving Mycroft's men enough time to interfere. Namely kill Moriarty or his men before either could give or get new orders. And Sherlock was certain that Moriarty would have let everyone live once he jumped, only changing his mind, if at all, months later, because they didn't matter to him as much as he did. But for he had killed himself Sherlock had to jump to show his sidekicks that they could stop their work and he was obeying Moriarty's last wish, because they wouldn't get any orders from him any more. So he jumped, hit the lorry while another one drove by taking the assassins in the building across the view of him. It was a very delicate undertaking in which every second counted. So he had to jump of the lorry as fast as possible get on the floor where Molly had already prepared a blood trail. It was the most inconspicuous part of the plan, because everyone would just assume she was a passer-by having been dragged into the scene. Some more men of Mycroft's initiated in the plan gathered around him and while apparently examining him added some more blood and bruises and saw to his pulse slowing down, so that John – who certainly was going to check it to see him dead for real – would feel none.

The whole ordeal had been easier done than he had imagined it in the beginning. Molly had already entered the morgue, because John wasn't supposed to see her and soon he was transported there, too, where she signed his death certificate and he prepared himself to go. The morgue was empty except for them and he used the privacy to talk to Molly one last time.

"You know you were amazing today Molly Hooper", he told her with a small smile.

Molly looked up from the sink where she just washed her hands clean from the fake blood: "Em... thanks Sherlock. No problem really. I... I help where I can."

"I know. Still you could have said no. Could have let me deal with it alone instead of confronting me and offering your help. I'm glad you did it, because you were indispensable today!"

She blushed and fidgeted with the sleeves of her overall: "No need to exaggerate... I'm glad it all worked out. You really had me worried the whole time... And now you will just go? Without telling John?"

"I have to. Moriarty's men think I'm dead and only as long as they think that you all will be safe... I'll track them down and stop them don't worry! When I'm done I shall be back and you shall be safe", he smiled at her again then, having cleaned up his dirty clothes and taken his bag of supplied he stood there ready to go.

Molly felt hollow inside: "You... Do you know when you'll be back? What about John? Shall I tell him everything?"

Sherlock's eyes widened and he stepped up close to her: "No way! Don't tell him a word, you hear me?" – he put his hands on her shoulders – "John can't know, his life depends on it. He has to act convinced of my death, you all have to! Otherwise this will have been a waste of time. You understand me Molly? Promise me that you won't tell him a word. Do me this one last favour!"

"I promise", Molly said with breaking voice and a tear escaping her eyes at last.

Sherlock raised his hand and wiped it away with his thumb: "There, there! No need to cry. I'll be back in no time. Thank you Molly Hooper!"

She was to baffled to react and just looked at him while he grabbed his things and left the morgue only turning around one last time to remind her: _"Please, do not forget Moriarty up there on the roof and get his death certificate done, too. I really owe you Molly Hooper!" _And this really were his last words to her with which he left the morgue, John and London behind for two full years.

So what did explain why Moriarty was still alive? How could he have escaped the consequences of a bullet fired through his head and afterwards the examination of a pathologist clearly stating he was dead. How? There was only one logical connection. One thing he and everyone else had overlooked and which too often not even got a sidewise glance nor any bigger notice at all. Shame on everyone and especially shame on Sherlock for not having seen this earlier and for failing his own words. It was time to speak with the one person again who counted and mattered the most.


	4. Remember, remember

_Victim: John Smith_

_Time of death: 4.30 pm_

_Cause of death: internal bleeding due to fractured skull_

_Other abuses: failed attempt of strangling, head hit concrete floor_

_Verdict: murder_

Molly Hooper quickly finished her paperwork on the new case she had just got to today. After thoroughly examining the body of the victim she had come to the conclusion of it being a murder, because neither the strangle marks nor the head injury pointed to suicide. Now she would just have to give her report to Lestrade and he could inform Sherlock. Her work was done for the day. She got up from her desk, grabbed the document and went out of the morgue. Turning off the lights she noticed that it had got really dark and she looked at the clock on the wall to see that it was already half past eleven! She quickly went to her locker to get her coat and finally head home only to receive a message at that moment.

_Meet me in the lab – SH _

She sighed and was about to write him that she was done for today, but then it was Sherlock and moreover the lab was on the way out. So there would be no harm done to just shortly visit him, right? Molly put on her coat and made her way to the lab. It seemed to be hardly illuminated judging from the outside and made Molly frown. Usually Sherlock's lab was brightly lit, because he hated working in semi-darkness for he couldn't clearly see his experiments and findings properly then. Maybe Sherlock wasn't here yet? Or maybe he meant a different lab? Although that was rather improbable. Nevertheless she went to the door and knocked. Maybe he was simply having one of his moods again and enjoyed working in darkness now.

"Sherlock? Are you in here? You texted me", speaking out loud after so many hours silently working her voice shortly put her on edge.

Molly slowly opened the door although no answer had come, which should have told her to turn around and go. But it was to late for that now. Her ring tone sounded all of a sudden again and made her squeal. She fished it out of her bag reading the message.

_Sorry misunderstanding!_

She frowned and internally cursed herself and him. She really would go home now and tell Sherlock what a jerk he was first thing in the morning. But just as she was about to put her phone away again she received another message. Two to be exact.

_No wait. Still meet me in the lab!_

And then:

_Just don't be to disappointed I'm not Sherlock! - JM_

Her phone slipped out of her hands then, skidded across the floor and under the long lab desk, on which's end, before not noticed due to the lack of light, sat a man she knew all to well.

"Hello my dear! Long time no see, he?"

Molly turned around to dash out of the room, but there was already someone there to block her escape, pushing her into the room again. She now was alone in the lab with her worst nightmare, the biggest maniac on earth and Sherlock's exact counterpart – though even that information hardly helped her out now. Instead of just killing her now – what she hadn't actually feared in the first place – he was just sitting there, watching her with that smug face of his and a half-smile underlining his insanity. Molly had known that this day would come, she just hadn't counted on it to be here so fast. In fact she had buried it with the past, even denying the mere existence of it. But there was no way she could avoid it now. She had had plenty of time to think about this. The things she had done, what would happen afterwards and what she could do about it, but it all had simply slipped her mind.

The thing was that Molly and Moriarty shared a past. And by that she didn't mean the short, shallow relationship they had had years ago, but to which it had led: Molly had played alongside Moriarty as well as Sherlock, but only one was aware of that situation. Two years ago Moriarty had visited her at home. With visit meaning breaking in, acting as if it's his home and talking with her under constant threat. She remembered it all to vividly.

_She was sitting on the wooden chair, not manacled but feeling that way, because one move could get her killed or rather severely injured first. Moriarty was leaning against the wall eyes on her grinning, while red dots flashed all over certain, valuable, life-preserving parts of her body. _

"_I remember watching Glee with you here! You remember it, too?", under other circumstances this could have sounded like any other friend talking to you about your last date, but this was Moriarty and his voice changed with his moods, "WHAT A STUPID TV-SHOW! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW I HAD TO RESTRAIN MYSELF NOT TO SMACK YOUR HEAD AGAINST THE TV TO MAKE IT STOP? Anyway now we're here to discuss different matters."_

_Molly whimpered because she hadn't been prepared for the outburst. She only knew Moriarty as the kind, amiable person he had been when dating her, but this was a whole new side of him that was revealed to her._

"_You know I need a favour from you and when I say favour I mean you granting it or someone's getting killed, understand?", he smiled at her again like they were discussing the arrangement of the furniture in this room or any other trivial topic "I want you to work for me, get inside information from Sherlock and help me find out how he ticks. I tried everything after our little encounter at the swimming pool which by the way was a rather harsh action, but I can't figure him out. I need you to observe him, to **see him **and then report it back to me. Refuse to and your Mummy and Daddy will not see the next day arriving! And we can add your little cat, too, just for making my point clear. What do you say?"_

_Molly gathered up all her strength to say the next words: "Please just kill me already! Leave my parents... and cat... out of this and kill me. I'll not betray Sherlock!"_

"_Oh dear, dear Molly... Your love for him really runs deep, doesn't it? And he? He probably doesn't even know you exist apart from work and he surely doesn't requites your love, does he? So what would I gain from killing you? You are worth nothing and you don't count in any way that it would hurt him or leave any durable effect! And even if I killed you now, what would guarantee you that it would stop me from killing your parents and lovely cat first thing in the morning? You simply have nothing to bargain here Molly. So if you want everything to stay as it is – healthy and alive – THEN. DO. AS. I. SAY!"_

_Her heart was pounding. She couldn't phone someone, couldn't write a note and she would either die here without anyone noticing it or be dragged into something were someone would get killed maybe even by her hand. With Moriarty there were no other options to choose._

"_You are indispensable to me and I need you to help me fake my own death!"_

_That turn of events made her heart stop and watch him differently: "Why? Why would you want to fake your own death? And why do you need me of all people to help you?"_

"_GLAD you finally ask!" a grin spread on his face and he was really excited now "You are the perfect person to first observe Sherlock and help me gather information then help me commit suicide the way it makes him believe I'm really dead. Everything concerning that matter I've already planned and worked out, but I need you to sign the deal in the end. You're a pathologist I hear so that will be no problem at all."_

"_But why fake your own death? To what purpose?"_

_Moriarty started laughing then, a laugh she had never heard before, that made her hair stand on end:"Simply because I'm bored! I'm bored and I want to start anew and I want Sherlock to be clueless and dumb until I strike again full force! Just imagine the look on his face! Well, but back to business. Whenever you see him, talk to him, anything remember any detail and tell it to me."_

"_What good will that do? You already know him better than I do..."_

"_Not nearly good enough. You are inconspicuous almost transparent to him. You can and will help me fill up the gaps and install my plan."_

"_Which is?" she asked with trembling voice.  
_

"_I love games! That's why I will not only kill myself but will make him do the same!" , he explained to her and had to giggle then, "I'm enjoying this far to much... but then again it's why I plan on doing it! This will be so much fun! You know? The gun I'll use will just make the sound of a shot while little balls woven into my hair will explode via a trigger and it will look so stunningly real that I myself have to do my best not to look too alive! And the best thing will be Sherlock trying to help his silly mundane friends and survive at the same time! I wonder how he'll pull that off..."_

_Molly could just stare at him as he rambled on about his ingenious plan. How was it possible that such a vile man even existed? How did he come to being this way? He couldn't have gotten this rotten if his parents hadn't been the same or responsible for it. She just couldn't believe that one was born this way. But then again, her mind whispered to her, Sherlock was the same and could be as cruel and crazy as Moriarty if he liked and as far as she knew he had had proper parents._

"_Just go to him tomorrow, confront him or tell him that you somehow know that something is off and then ask him if you can help. He already knows that I want him dead, but I have no idea what he's going to do, so it would be nice to have someone to tell me. I'll speak to you again tomorrow same time same place! Expect my... visit", he grinned at her and then just left the room and her house without another word, the red dots leaving her, too. _

_As soon as he was gone Molly broke into tears letting all the fear, relieve and anger out she had suppressed the whole time. She had to be strong now. Tomorrow she had to act as if nothing had happened. She had to talk to Sherlock or get him to talk and then she would meet Moriarty again and if she hadn't any good information, he would kill her parents and her cat. Maybe even letting her watch him do it before killing her or letting her live with the torturing pain. She had started sobbing uncontrollably then and had been unable to eat and sleep the whole time from then to Sherlock's Fall making her think about how she even had seemed convincing and unknowing towards Sherlock at all...  
_

She shuddered after reliving that memory and now being thrown back into a similar reality. Back then she had obeyed to Moriarty's word fearing his wrath. She had told Sherlock a story of her father that wasn't even far-fetched, to get him to talk and he really had come to her although she had shortly believed her try had been in vain. He had talked to her about Moriarty's plan, what he wanted to do about it and Molly had helped him create possible escapes although he always came up with better ones. In the end she had told almost every plan to Moriarty who had listened with delight. She only ever had left out the lorry option as she had thought of it as highly improbable. Who would have known that it would be the option of choice in the end? But was this really the reason for Moriarty coming here tonight seeking her out? This one lie, this one defiance she had kept towards him? It was time to finally find that out.


	5. Let's have a little Chat

"Don't just stand there like a statue. Come and join me, there's still a chair free to sit on!", he invited her, his voice so normal almost kind.

Molly slowly stepped towards the chair and towards him and stopped uncertainly next to it. Moriarty watched her his eyes slitted like those of a snake and between clenched he requested her to sit, what she then unwillingly did.

"Technology nowadays... it's astounding isn't it?", he began to tell her, "One simple code and one can hack into every phone of every person, then look for information or plant them there. It really was a great idea sending you those messages. Quite funny and entertaining, indeed. Oh and you still love him, don't you? It was so clearly to be seen!"

If Molly didn't know it any better she would have thought he really cared stating that last thing. He seemed like a grandma being happy for her grandchild. But to everything Moriarty said or did was a catch. Although she didn't know what he would gain from that information. Everyone knew she was into Sherlock, but it was also clear, and Moriarty had so aptly observed it himself, that it was unrequited by Sherlock. She may have mattered to him two years ago but this fleeting moment had passed with Sherlock's fall and him going away. She wasn't even sure what, what had happened between them over the last days really meant. Could Moriarty even know about that? Their kiss had happened in private and even if Moriarty had seen them afterwards investigating crime scenes together he couldn't possibly know about it or guess something had happened. Or could he? After all he had his men everywhere and who knows which of his so praised technology he owned allowed him to spy on people...

Molly decided to finally say something to maybe prevent the worst and just hoped he didn't know about the kiss: "Same old same old I guess... I still care about him, but that can't be said about him."

"Painful isn't it? To love someone who doesn't love you back?"

"Bearable...", Molly allowed herself to play with fire now, "After all I have my fiance now."

Moriarty looked astonished then he observed her hands: "I see... no ring."

"I came here straight from work and have forgotten to put it on again."

"Molly, Molly, Molly! So forgetful... I thought that was a trait not so familiar to you. After all you always remembered so much about everything you and Sherlock had talked about and I had told you and you didn't seem forgetful then..."

"Accidents happen."

"Yes, I think so."

Molly gathered up all her courage to ask the next thing: "Why am I here? What do you want? Why are you back?"

"Boredom. Fun. And... Boredom. Two years playing hide and seek, perfecting my underground network of spies and assassins only to have it destroyed by not-so-dead Sherlock again. I had to go into defense mode again. And I kind of missed you all. Your fun to play with! So predictable, so easy to manipulate and of course the perfect bait!"

Having said the last words the door to the morgue was pushed open with such force that it threw the "_guard dog_" off his feet. In the threshold stood non other than Sherlock first examining the groaning man on the ground before turning to face the scene in front of him. Molly and Moriarty sitting opposite each other as if having tea time. Molly with the back to him and Moriarty smiling at him like they were the best of friends.

"What is going on here?", he asked his deep voice sounding through the room and instantly soothing Molly's nerves.

She hadn't noticed how still she had sat the whole time. Now she relaxed and all her muscles ached. She noticed Moriarty glancing towards her and internally chided herself for giving him even that subtle an information.

"Hello, Sherlock and welcome back from the dead!", Moriarty greeted him, "Me and Molly were just having a little chat. Care to join us?"

Sherlock took in the whole scenery again, scanning every detail. Something was wrong, but he couldn't think of what and there wasn't any time to make up a plan. He cursed himself for not having called John before going here. He didn't even leave a note. Not that he was scared of Moriarty killing him, his own life didn't matter to him that much. But there was someone in the room that made him feel uncomfortable, bare even vulnerable. Molly Hooper – his pathologist and the one who's life really mattered now and was in grave danger.


End file.
